He moved in next door.
Handsome as sin, older in a way that meant forbidden. He had tattoos on his hands and wickedness tucked in his grin.
I was a goner as girl to a man they called Casanova for a reason. He would never love me, at least not the way I needed him to.
I tried to move on.
But I couldn’t turn my back on him or The Fallen MC. So when they needed me most, I offered the only thing of value I could use to help them.
My body.
And when helping them meant putting my life on the line, Nova had to decide just how much he was willing to do to get me out alive.
the fallen men book 5
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